


Cry Baby Cry

by DisasterLesbean



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff, Smut, They Finally Watch a Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 07:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14786088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterLesbean/pseuds/DisasterLesbean
Summary: She ruined everything for Eve, ruined her so completely to where the only thing she could think or feel was for her.





	1. If I Gave You My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written smut before but after seeing the finale I had to. Smut is after line break if that's not your thing.

When Villanelle’s hand stroked down her face it was softer than she was expecting. She was expecting rough calluses born of a life from killing. Hands that were rough from her time in prison, chaffed from the grips of guns, and shredded from her victims fleeting attempts of surviving. Instead they were soft and tender. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised by their softness after all the luxury she’s seen Villanelle partake in, but what right did she have to touch her so tenderly? With the same hand that had taken Bill from her? Killed countless individuals, without guilt but rather glee. 

Disgust rises in her like an overwhelming wave, threatening to overcome her. Her hands tighten on the knife further, gripping hard enough to tear her own skin. As fast as the disgust rushes up, that familiar all consuming heat builds. It hadn’t alway been like this. At first there wasn’t disgust, if anything there was an admiration. It started to turn to horror at the hospital. Horror at the bodies that lay unmoving which had seen alive only moments before. Even despite the horror at the scene she’d witnessed, the admiration held fast. How could it not when she was so talented, so well hidden. Of course the disgust and anger started with Bill. Killed as brutally as those in the hospital, as brutally as any of her kills. The difference was that Bill mattered to her.

Despite this growing disgust, this overwhelming horror and anger...it didn’t stop this unwanted desire. Desire that Bill had noticed and commented on, desire that even Elena joked about. She didn’t recognize it at first, didn’t know what it meant. Then she didn’t want to. When Villanelle put the gun under her chin, she told herself that her panic was that she had to be the one to catch her. Only later, sitting with Anna and jealousy burning in her gut, could she realize the truth. God, how sick she felt sitting in the same room with a woman who lost her husband and life to this woman and to be sickeningly jealous. 

When Anna had denied having sex with Villanelle, she knew it was a lie. If she was jealous before, she was bursting with it after that realization. She couldn’t stop thinking about them together, Villanelle so focused on someone other than her. Villanelle touching anyone other than her. The disgust was in a constant war with lust. She knew she wanted the woman, just as she knew she needed the woman to pay. 

That being said, didn’t she have the best opportunity to hurt her? She had promised to find that which she loved, and to kill it. She’s certain she had left that something’s apartment and left the woman alive. She couldn’t imagine killing the broken woman, watching her body fall and coat her hands in her blood. So, she didn’t fulfill her promise. Again, later, when she watched Villanelle shoot Konstantin she was sure she missed another opportunity to fulfill her promise to kill that which she cares for. Two opportunities, both going by unfulfilled. She doesn’t want anyone else, she wanted Villanelle. So she begged her to come with her, just them. To kill, to love, to live, who’s to say. When she left her she wasn’t surprised. When Carolyn and Kenny left her she wasn’t surprised either.

She supposes that part of it all, part of Villanelle’s attentions. She’d seen it with Anna, now it mirrored with herself. She’d lost her people, her life, just as Anna had. Her husband lived, but he was gone despite this. Bill was dead, at the hands of the woman who she couldn’t go five minutes without thinking about. She lost her job, and friends with it.

“I’ve never done anything like this before.” She told Villanelle as her hand fell aside.

She’s lost everything because of this woman, for this woman.

“It's okay. I know what I’m doing.” Villanelle tells her.

As Villanelle slides over towards her, the knife in her hand and victory on the front of her mind, Anna should be the last thing on her mind. Yet there she remains. It strikes her rather violently that Anna is not a horror story of Villanelle’s attentions, but rather the horror story of what happens if you reject Villanelle. The damage is already done, her life in ruins as Anna’s was, the only thing left is Villanelle herself. If she were to follow through and end Villanelle’s life, she’d be ending the last piece of Eve. Just as she’d be killing Villanelle she’d be killing Eve, and she can’t do this. Not only for self preservation, but to prevent that emptiness she knows would result in such an act. The emptiness of their long hunt, their game ending, the burgeoning something ending before it could start. The emptiness of killing the woman who had sent her perfume and clothes, who had promised not to kill her and who wanted dinner with her and wants to watch movies. It was all so fucked up but she was gripped with the reality of no Villanelle, and the disgust and horror had a new outlet.

For as obsessed as this woman was with her, she was equally obsessed. Her thoughts were dominated by the woman, her relationships forgotten, her marriage broken by her pursuit of her. She couldn’t stop no matter how much Niko asked, begged her to stop. The chase consumed her as much as the prize itself. If she were to kill her, the chase would be forever over. If anyone were to kill her, it would be over. She has no job, she isn’t tasked with catching or stopping Villanelle or any other killers, but she has a purpose. Villanelle would be hers, and no one would kill her.

She takes her hand from the knife, fear of what she was going to do sending a shiver over her. The thought of splitting her flesh, watching the life flash out of her eyes, becoming covered in gushes of her sticky blood, the once warm body cooling under her, rendered her in horror. Never, she swore silently, never would she let anything happen to her Villanelle.

____________________________________________________________________________

As Villanelle slipped over towards her, she placed her hand on the blonde’s stomach where she had planned to drive the knife through. To stop Villanelle’s movements, or to reassure herself she had indeed not stabbed the woman, she wasn’t sure. Villanelle quirked her eyebrow in a curious expression, any signs of fearing rejection vacant. Eve gripped Villanelle’s shirt tight and pulled the woman towards her, silencing a huff of laughter with her own lips. They were even softer than her hands, softer than anyone else she had ever kissed. The roughness of her damaged lip countered the softness of the rest as it scraped against her own. When she licked along Villanelle’s lips seeking entrance the tang of iron filled her senses. The blood was not gushing in the way she feared, but present in the violence of their life. 

She felt Villanelle’s hand tighten in her hair as she stroked along her tongue, felt her moan as she bit her lip. The blonde moved to fully rest on top of her when Eve pulled back, pupils blown and breathing hard. Eve stopped her pushing her back and straddling her instead. 

“I thought you’d never done anything like this before.” Villanelle replied cheekily. The challenge clear in her eyes. Daring Eve to once again step forward and chase her, take her. 

That was always the plan after all, even if she didn’t know it. In order for the chase to end you have to find her, check, and catch her, also check. Now that she’s caught her assassin, she’s not letting her go. She’s hers and hers alone. 

She leans down and recaptures the woman’s lip in a fiery kiss. She leans back to trail kisses along her infuriating cheeks, trails her tongue down the woman’s jaw being sure to press just hard enough into the bruising so she feels it. “I haven’t, but I plan to.” She murmurs into her neck before she bites down until she feels Villanelle jerk beneath her and lets out a groan at the feeling. She soothes the bite mark with her tongue as Villanelle tries to take off Eve’s shirt. She lifts herself off the woman briefly to toss off her shirt only to feel Villanelle try to maneuver back on top. She quickly presses down on her chest pushing her back into the mattress, from this contact she could feel Villanelle’s racing heart. 

She could feel Villanelle’s inner turmoil over whether or not to regain control, weighing the pros and cons of flipping them over. A woman used to control, used to being on top. Eve knew she could only go on with this if she were exactly where she were. Their entire relationship has developed on Villanelle’s whim. She pursued Eve, she killed and isolated those around her, she has controlled the pace of their relationship and how they progressed. Now, Eve needed the control. She needed this to go at her pace, how she wants. With Bill’s blood still staining her, Anna’s history with Villanelle, and Niko’s non-communication, she needed this. Villanelle must have read all this on her face because the lines of strain faded and her eyes softened. 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this.” Villanelle grinned happily or smugly, Eve honestly couldn’t tell with her.

“I’m sure I do.” Eve teased back. She was unsurprised at the darkening of Villanelle’s eyes at the implication or her lips crushing against her own. Taking the opportunity of Villanelle leaning off her back she lifted the other woman’s shirt up, Villanelle understanding pulled back far enough to let Eve take her shirt off. As soon as her shirt was off Eve started on the other woman’s bra.

“Enthusiastic?” Villanelle teased licking along the shell of Eve’s ear and tugging on her earlobe with her teeth.

Once Eve got her bra off she leaned the woman back and started a path back down her throat until she reached her goal. She kissed the underside of her breast, trailing her tongue between them, teasing her until she could hear Villanelle’s breathing becoming harsher. As Villanelle locked both her hands back into Eve’s hair, she took her nipple into her mouth flicking it several times with her tongue. She brought her hand up to Villanelle’s stomach, scraping her skin along the way. At Villanelle’s next moan she moved her hand from her stomach to the button and fly on her pants quickly working them free. Villanelle lifted her hips to make removing her pants easier. Eve tossed her pants aside joining the rest of their clothes in a quickly growing pile. When Villanelle suddenly stopped, she was confused. Pulling back as she tried catching breath she realized why, Villanelle’s hands were grabbing onto her thighs and felt the knife in her pocket.

“Was someone going to be naughty?” Villanelle asked sucking a mark into Eve’s jaw.

Eve couldn’t help but snort in response. “Someone has been.” At this Villanelle pouted exaggeratedly. 

“I promised not to kill you.” Villanelle grumbled.

“I know.” Eve replied throwing the knife aside with their clothes and laying between the blonde’s legs. Eve didn’t know how to communicate how she had almost killed her, but stopped at the last moment. How she would never let anyone touch Villanelle again if she could help it, never let anyone kill her. So she said the only thing she could think of. After all, Villanelle has always been the pursuer. Eve wonders if that’s why she became fascinated with Eve. Eve intended to chase her, pursue her. Anna couldn’t pursue Villanelle how she wanted. Couldn’t make her feel wanted and as if she belonged. “You’re mine.” Eve said as she pushed the assassin back down once again. She hoped the woman could hear it all. That she ruined everything for Eve, ruined her so completely to where the only thing she could think or feel was for her. That since she had pursued Eve so obsessively, there was no life without each other. 

When Eve’s skirted her fingers past Villanelle’s underwear and into her folds she found her wet and wanting. “Eve.” Villanelle moaned at the contact. Her name an answer that yes she understood. Yes, this was what she wanted. Eve felt heady with the feeling of Villanelle so wet and warm beneath her, pliant and letting her have control without fighting. She stroked her fingers along her folds gathering wetness before circling around the woman’s clit. She felt Villanelle drag her nails down her back and hissed before drawing her into another kiss, this one more aggressive with teeth clashing and tongues warring. When she brought her fingers back to the assassin’s entrance she pulled back breathing heavy asking silently for permission, Villanelle nodded licking her lips. Eve pushed two fingers as soon as consent was given and was swathed in warmth.

Villanelle tossed her head back as Eve started a rhythm, going as deep as her fingers would allow. Eve returned to trailing kisses and bites along the column of Villanelle’s throat and began circling the blonde’s clit with her thumb. She sought to lick, bite, and kiss over every mark anyone has ever left on her assasin. She was willing to take all night if she needed it, willing to mark every inch if it was necessary. The assassin’s hips were meeting Eve’s rhythm with every push and pull, she wrapped a leg around Eve’s hips for a better angle. Eve was careful to hit Villanelle’s rough patch with every stroke causing Villanelle to let out her loudest moan yet. Eve knew she would become addicted to the sound, she already is. To know how she can make the woman wet and needy. That the most dangerous woman is writhing on her fingers moaning for her, because of her. 

She brought her free hand up to the woman and massaged the woman’s breast, circling her nipple with her thumb. Villanelle was muttering in Russian, grabbing Eve’s arms to urge to go harder. Eve relented pumping harder pinching her nipple at the same time. 

When it happened, Eve couldn’t help but notice this is what they were always working toward. This great eruption. Death or sex, so interchangeable and only a breath away for being mistaken as the other. Villanelle let out a long moan, body shuddering, pulsing around her fingers, her nails digging into the flesh of Eve’s arm. Eve slowed her pace letting Villanelle come down and moved to swallow her moans. When Villanelle had finished and laid limp Eve removed her fingers and brought them to her mouth. When she tasted Villanelle she regretted having not going down on the assassin, having her legs wrapped around her head. Well, they had all night. Villanelle for her part looked enraptured at the sight of Eve sucking her fingers.

“There’s no way you haven’t done that before.” Villanelle accused, her voice rougher than before.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this.” Eve breathed out heavy, distracted by the throbbing that was now seeking her attention. 

Villanelle noticing her shifting on top of her, grinned wide. “Oh don’t worry baby, I can help with that.” 

Hours and several rounds later, Eve lay tucked into the crook of Villanelle’s sweaty shoulder. She was sated and satisfied at her progress in marking Villanelle much to the blonde’s delight. She was hesitant to go to sleep, fear that she’d wake alone. Fear that now that the curiosity had been sated, Villanelle’s interest would be over and Eve really would have lost everything. Villanelle, as always, seemed to be able to tell. 

“You’re mine.” Villanelle murmured into Eve’s hair, reassuring and threatening at the same time. Eve had the sensation of resting in a shark’s jaws, but couldn’t care less. She was confident she exactly they needed from each other, and god help whoever tried to hurt either of them.


	2. Won't You Take It?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments last chapter! I didn't reply to them all but I read and appreciated them all.

She woke up in a bed that wasn’t hers, the pillow saturated in all too familiar perfume, dressed in sheets and nothing else. Sitting up her body drew attention to her lingering aches and stiffness. She stretched her body as she left the bed in search of her clothes, which naturally were missing. Instead she grabbed one of Villanelle’s pretentious robes and wrapped it loosely around herself. Careful to step over the glass shards from her earlier fit, she made her way towards the sounds of breakfast cooking. The sight was both expected and unexpected.

She had almost expected the assassin to be naked still, an act of shamelessness and to throw Eve off. Instead, she found Villanelle wearing underwear and Eve’s cardigan from the night before. Eve had to stop and blink from the shocking sight since the cardigan warred against the assassin’s usual look. It was a simpler piece of clothing compared to that which she usually wore, including the damned robe Eve was currently wearing. 

As she approached, Villanelle turned around and wrapped Eve in her arms careful to lift her above the glass still littering the ground before trapping her between the counter and herself. Villanelle bracketed her body with her arms and from the upturn of her lips Eve could see her clear amusement. With her now turned around she could see the aftermath of the night before and Eve’s one woman quest to mark all of Villanelle, with that thought she had to fight the urge to blush. Surely after everything that’s happened she’s beyond that.

“You planned this.” Eve accused the woman tossing her arms around the blonde’s neck.

“I wasn’t the one who trashed my apartment.” Villanelle replied nuzzling along her jaw.

“You stole my clothes.” Eve added.

“You’re one to talk.” Villanelle grinned running her fingers along the edge of Eve’s robe.

“You’ll burn breakfast.” Eve warned the woman. 

“You’re no fun.” Eve pouted making no move to back away.

“I’m hungry and in need of coffee.” Eve deadpanned.

“Worn out?” Villanelle hummed with no little pride but finally acquiesced to let Eve make herself coffee.

Eve huffed out a laugh before carefully walking over to make herself coffee. She watched the other woman continue making breakfast with a bounce in her step. Villanelle won after all. She’s successfully killed all her targets, including Konstantin, and has Eve. Villanelle had separated Eve from Niko, from her team. She had enticed Eve, pursued her and been pursued back. Villanelle got exactly what she wanted.

Was Villanelle what Eve truly wanted? Had she not been forced and coaxed along, would she have chosen Villanelle? It should be no but she knows that’s a lie. If she hadn’t been so focused, so obsessed, maybe she wouldn’t have lost Niko so early. Maybe her old life would have lasted longer, her connections remained. She knows this to be a lie as well. Her connections faded and decayed so easily for a reason. It was always going to happen. Niko would have always left and she would have always chosen Villanelle. In every different path she sees, every different choice, she would always choose Villanelle. Only it would have been too late in another life.

With that in mind she walks behind Villanelle wrapping her arms around her waist. Villanelle turns her head with a grin and kisses Eve, trailing her finger across her jaw. “So, do you prefer Villanelle or Oksana?” Eve murmurs against the woman’s lips. She knew the answer by the slight shiver that goes through her body.

“Villanelle is the new me, but not all of me. I want you to know all of me.” Oksana replies more seriously than usual with a glimmer in her eye. It’s enough to make Eve consider dragging her back to their bed. At that Oksana’s lips upturn and she divides the food onto two plates and hands Eve hers. “You said you were hungry.” She says biting her lip and gliding away much too gracefully with all the glass on the floor. 

“Asshole.” Eve muttered scooping eggs onto her fork. Oksana laughed at that and looked at her in that way Eve noticed she looks at only her. Curiosity, anticipation, even warmth. She challenges Oksana, calls her out, and even knowing how dangerous she is she doesn’t mince her words. 

“So, what’s next?” Oksana asked between bites. A feigned nonchalance, as if that question doesn’t have the weight of the dead and dying. She is surprised the woman raised the question so early, but she supposed the assassin must be considering it as much as she was. What would they do? Would Oksana continue to murder her way through life? Undoubtedly. Eve was at peace with this, she had been from the beginning. Would she keep working for The Twelve? She’d have to ask Oksana. What Eve would do was an entirely different issue. 

She lost her job. Again. She won’t be Oksana’s lady in waiting. She knows what she wants to do. She wants to finish the hunt, find The Twelve. She wants to make sure no one knows about Oksana, give them both a clean slate. More than anything, she wants to win. She wants to see this grand organization crumble and stand victorious among its ashes. Except, Oksana might want to keep working for them. Which would cause a conflict of interest. She wouldn’t change who she is for Oksana just as she doesn’t expect her to change for Eve. She found she was reluctant to discuss possibilities of the future, conflicts and scheming. Not today. Let that be tomorrow’s problem.

“Movies.” Eve answered instead. Oksana’s head popped up from her where it was lowered eating, her entire face lighting up with a glee movies should not inspire. She felt an easy smile come over her own face as she set her dish in the sink and turned to regard the mess of the apartment. “We should probably clean first though.” Eve added regretfully.

“Why, when it gives me so many opportunities to do this?” Oksana asked cheekily once again lifting Eve up and dramatically dragging her safely over the glass.

“Clean up the mess, shower, then movies.” Eve repeated between kisses.

“Shower?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“God you really do have a one track mind.” Eve grumbled.

“Three tracks actually.” Oksana replied dropping the cardigan heading towards the bathroom.

“I hesitate to ask.” Eve murmured to herself but followed nonetheless. 

An hour and half later and one clean apartment found Eve in a surprising situation. It wasn't that she sat between Oksana’s legs on the couch, with her all but draped over her. Oksana was touchy, it wasn't surprising. She was also possessive so it wasn't a surprise how she held her tight. As if someone would come and take Eve away or even that Eve would leave herself. No, what was surprising was the movie choice. She had expected an extravagant or dramatic choice, but instead she had put on a romantic comedy. 

Oksana spent the movie nuzzling into her hair, whispering what she thought would happen and laughing at all the jokes. She knew then how this would all work. She gotten so focused on how she pursued Oksana and how it pleased her. She forgot how she enjoyed that pursuit. That for the rest of their time she would keep finding her over and over. The different ways Oksana could surprise her. She didn’t lie to her earlier. She constantly thought about her, how she thought and how she felt. Only now did she realize she would get to see these things. She would be the one to discover them, and no one else. She would be the one who witnessed an international killer laugh at a silly movie, she would be the one who bathed in her afterglow of a good kill, she would be Oksana’s. 

Eve turned around to kiss her. It was a different kiss for them than any so far. The others were either rough or playful, each a powerplay of some sort. Who was on top, who was throwing the other off balance, who was in control. The truth was neither of them were. Eve started tumbling down this path the first time she heard of Oksana, and Oksana followed along in the bathroom that fateful day. The agent and the killer, two parts of a whole that was always meant to be.

“What was that for?” Oksana asked eyebrows drawn in confusion. She could tell the difference but couldn’t discern the meaning. 

“I want all of you.” Eve whispered earnestly. She wanted every jagged edge, every smoothed corner and blunt end. At those words Oksana pulled Eve back into a deep kiss burying her hands in her hair, Eve twisting to straddle Oksana’s lap. It was the kind of kiss that would be on the movie behind them. One that reached into Eve and set the last pieces in order. One that lit her body up and soothed her soul. It was a kiss that breathed life into her. When she bit Oksana’s lip and pulled back to look into her eyes they were dark and hooded, her expression more serious than she’d expect.

“You know I have to kill the husband.” And like that Eve felt the drop. Her insides swooped and her skin crawled. She knew, but had hoped. She doesn’t want Oksana to kill Niko, she still cares for the man. She spent years married to him, loving him, making love to him, living with him. They were seperated and she knew soon to be divorced, but she still cared for the man. She had no doubt he still cared for her. They would never be together again, especially after this. After the way she feels with Oksana in comparison. She makes her feel more than she thought a person could in such a short amount of time. Admiration, fascination, anger, disgust, lust, protective, possessive, and God help her she could easily love this woman. She needed Oksana. They were each other’s now. 

She knew Niko would die now matter her answer, no matter her response. He had to in Oksana’s mind. Just as Anna’s husband had to. It was how Oksana loved. She’ll kill all those around her or isolate them. She makes herself the only star Eve can orbit. Together or not, Niko would die. 

“Not yet?” Eve asked. She meant to be more demanding, more assertive, but she wanted Oksana to understand. She knew why Oksana had to kill Niko but she wanted her to understand why Eve needed time. She couldn’t simply run over her ex. She cared for Niko and needed time to come to terms with it. She needed time to ease her feelings, she needed to rid herself of the connection still remaining. When she chose not to drive that knife into Oksana, she had made her choice. She’ll make it a thousand more times.

“Of course.” Oksana murmured kissing Eve lightly. “We still have The Twelve to worry about anyways, he can wait till after that.” She assured Eve tightening her hands on her thighs.

“You want to go after The Twelve?” Eve asked raising an eyebrow. That certainly cleared up the possible conflict.

“Yep.” She answered.

“Why?” Eve asked for clarification.

“They annoyed me.” Oksana replied scrunching up her face. Eve could only laugh because of course. “Now we have to rewind the movie because you distracted me.” Oksana huffed reaching for the remote. Eve gave her a look in return. “I’m not complaining.” She grinned back at Eve’s unimpressed expression.

Safe in Oksana’s grasp, with her laugh occasionally brushing her over her ear, she found herself riddled with pity. Pity at the world that would have to face them. The agent and the killer, two parts of the whole that should never have met.


End file.
